The Killer Dad
by lilgenious
Summary: When the call comes in that a man returned home to find his wife and daughter missing and a trail of blood throughout the house, the CSI team wastes no time in getting to the scene. However, there is more to the story than what first meets the eye, and the quick mobility of Miami's FBI office is warning enough that things are not at all what they seem.


_AN: I've had the first two chapters of this story complete for over a year, and have decided that I would stop over-analysing and have the story published for once. I have published both the prologue and the first chapter together. This is because over the years, I have come to hate the mess in numbering_

_Just a small note on timeline: The story officially opens in 2005 but is an ongoing case for three years. As a consequence, there is going to be a few references of future cases hidden in this one. Also, I have decided to change certain things regarding canon, but they are smaller changes that I wish to explore in further detail in future chapters. _

_I would like to thank my beta de Valois for helping me focus on plot and characterisation, and for the greatest help in keeping things English. I would also like to thank Emilia Delko for the constant cheerleading and being the greatest support network that anybody could ask for. _

* * *

><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

The man that sat across from Horatio Caine was stone-faced and cold as he faced the investigators in the room. Even his brown eyes had the same uncaring, distant look that had transformed his face into a statue. At first the change had been disconcerting despite the fact that he had been expecting it to come, but the moment of surprise had passed and in its place, a cold, quiet anger.

"You can cut the crap, Mister Jorgenson," Horatio said coldly, his eyes were upon the man in front of him with such intensity that the latter was forced to look away. "We both know what happened in that house on February sixteenth, two thousand and five."

"That was the day that I called the police to say that my beloved wife and daughter were missing." The suspect's smirk had widened, almost as though he were amused by the memory of that day. "If memory serves me correct, there was a lot of blood in the house that day."

"You killed your wife and daughter that day and disposed of them as though they were trash." Horatio willed himself to remain calm, though he felt as though he were about to burst with the rage he felt boiling within him. "It must have been such a big thrill to you, Mister Jorgenson, to kill two people who couldn't even fight back. You are nothing but a cold-blooded coward..."

The suspect's smirk had vanished, replaced by a sneer that made Horatio want to jump over the table to wipe it off by force. With great difficult, he restrained himself and instead decided to remain silent and gaze upon the man intently.

"I am not a coward, Lieutenant Caine," The man hissed in a dangerous voice, leaning forward over the table as much as his restraints allowed him. "If you think that I killed them, then why don't you provide proof that I did?"

Horatio smiled in response. There was a threat concealed in both his smile and his light blue eyes, one that promised that the man would get exactly what he deserved in the end. He leaned forward until he was inches away from the man's emotionless face, almost as though he were a cobra ready to strike, his eyes unblinking and full of hate. For a few seconds he remained in that position, his gaze was unrelenting as they bore directly into the brown eyes in front of him.

"That is exactly what I intend to do," Horatio said softly, so that only the suspect could hear him. The FBI agent that stood in the corner of the room shifted her position, but did nothing other than throw a threatening look in his direction. He ignored her as he regarded the piece of filth before him, "it will only be a matter of time before what I really want will surface, Mister Jorgenson, and when it does, I will send you right where you truly belong."

He drew away from the man and stood to his feet. He regarded the man in front of him with a look that he reserved for the worst of the monsters that he dealt with, before he turned on the spot and went to the door. Only when the door was unlocked and opened from the outside, did Horatio chance a look behind him at the man who he knew to be a terrifying bogeyman in disguise.

The man sat with his hands covering his face. The statue had finally cracked.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

February 16, 2005

When the panicked call came in, Horatio had been reading over a lab report that had been sent to him by a DNA analyst just thirty minutes before. As the head of the forensic department, it was his job to ensure that all the reports that landed on his desk had been thoroughly read through and signed before he filed them away within their case files. He stretched as he looked out the window at the sunny day that had minimal clouds and sighed deeply. It had been hours since he had been outside, and even then it had been early in the morning, when the sun was just beginning to appear in the sky.

_I've been at this for hours, _Horatio thought as he watched a small group of forensic scientists talking amongst themselves in the parking lot below him. They had obviously been on a small break and decided that they would go to the small restaurant that was down the road from the forensic building. All five of them carried large Styrofoam boxes and large cups that had krazy straws looping out of them in wild designs. His stomach rumbled loudly as he watched the group of scientists go to the double doors and disappear inside the spacious lobby down below. _Maybe I will step outside and get a bit e to eat before I continue on with the rest of this pile._

Before he could move an inch however, the phone on his desk began to ring shrilly. He cursed silently for a moment as he hunted around for the black telephone, before he finally found it hidden behind a large pile of folders.

"Caine," he answered, fumbling a bit with the hand piece.

"Horatio, we've got a problem." Frank Tripp's familiar deep voice answered on the other end. Horatio frowned when he heard the detective's tone, and grew suddenly worried.

"What is it, Frank?"

"We've got a case in Coconut Grove. A young mother and her two year old daughter have gone missing. The father called it in twenty minutes ago."

There was something in Frank's voice that had Horatio on edge, but whatever it was, couldn't be placed. He knew that right now, Tripp was at the scene and that whatever it was that troubled the detective would soon be known. There was a short pause on the other end of the phone, in which he was certain that he could hear Frank take deep breaths to calm himself.

"There's a lot of red here, Horatio." Frank warned him. It was unusual for the detective to warn him of a scene before he arrived, and it caught his attention immediately.

"How much blood are we talking about?" Horatio asked as he quickly stood to his feet and grabbed for his CSI kit that stood on a rickety old corner table. He felt his heart plummet into his stomach when he thought of the young child that was also involved, and hoped that she would be recovered soon.

The detective blew a puff of air out. Horatio imagined that he was rubbing at the bald spot on his head, a sure sign of anxiety that left him feeling worse. "There's a lot of it here. It goes from one end of the house to the other. The place is full of it..."

"I am on my way," Horatio interrupted gently. He knew how these cases affected Frank and didn't want to cause anymore distress to the detective with his questions. "Can you tell me the address?"

Before Frank could rattle off the address, the door of his office opened and Calleigh Duquesne walked in. She paused in the doorway, her mouth open as though she were about to say something, but when she saw that Horatio was on the phone she clamped up and waited. Horatio noticed immediately that her mouth was drawn in a tight, thin line, her oval face was unusually sharp, and her green eyes were bright. It was obvious that she was upset with something, and Horatio found that her anger seemed to take a life of its own and pulsate around the room.

He heard Frank say something but was unable to catch the words. He nodded to Calleigh who raised her eyebrows at him, but stepped out of the room without a word. Horatio could see her standing just outside the door, her back against the wall, and her arms crossed over her chest. He knew that the moment that he put down the phone and joined her, that he would be able to know what was going on in her mind.

"I am sorry, Frank." Horatio grabbed for a small piece of paper that he caught sight of on his desk and picked up a black pen. "Can you repeat what you said?"

The detective repeated himself. Horatio could hear the question in his voice but ignored it. The moment that he had written down the address and assured Frank that he would be there shortly with his team, he hung up. For a moment, he stood in his office with his back facing the window, deep in thought. He felt troubled by something that Frank had said over the phone, or perhaps it was what the detective refused to say that left him the most worried. Something felt off to him as he grabbed for his kit and walked out of his office, though for the life of him, he couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

As he contemplated all the things that Frank had told him over the phone, he remembered that it wasn't so much what he said that was bothering him but how the detective had worded it. It was almost as though Tripp had spoken his words carefully, as though there was something that was troubling him but he couldn't say exactly what it was. It was almost as though there was somebody there that was making sure that the detective was saying the right thing over the phone, and it was this realisation that made Horatio uneasy.

He found Calleigh outside the door, clicking her tongue impatiently and looking down the hallway towards the labs. He found her behaviour unusual, and as he took in her crossed arms and the way that her eyes had hardened when they caught sight of him, he knew that something was up.

Calleigh lost no time in speaking her mind. "They brought in the Feds, Horatio. A missing child is involved and according to the law..."

"The FBI must get involved in the case of a missing child," Horatio finished tonelessly. However, he felt suddenly disturbed by the quickness of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. His pace suddenly quickened as he headed towards the elevator, Calleigh was by his side.

Calleigh reached the elevator first and pressed the button. She looked impatient as they stood in silence beside the door, and constantly looked to the right where the thick cream coloured door to the staircase stood.

"Eric and Ryan are already on their way," she said as she heard the soft ping from the elevator ring out in the stillness of the lab foyer. "The moment that the call came back that there was a possible homicide that took place at the house and the murder squad left; the two of them followed. They are waiting for us at the house."

Horatio frowned at this but chose to remain silent. The elevator door finally opened and a stream of people streamed out of it. He caught sight of a DNA analyst wearing her lab coat; in her gloved hands she carried a large case box. For a moment the two stared at each other, before the analyst's face flushed a bright red.

"I am going to change into another lab coat and get new gloves." He heard her say in a small voice. Beside him, Calleigh shook her head, her eyes upon the analyst who hurried away from them into the biology department.

"You would think that she would know to remove her coat and gloves before she left the lab," Calleigh muttered to herself, her eyes narrowed as she watched the thick door swing shut behind the scientist.

The moment that the elevator emptied, Horatio quickly hopped onto it and patiently waited for Calleigh to join him. All the way down to the first level of the forensic building, Calleigh grumbled about incompetent scientists and how misconduct of the lab often led to cases being thrown out in the court of law.

By the time that they had reached the double doors leading out of the building, Calleigh had returned to her usual cheerful self. She fixed Horatio with a wide smile and twinkling eyes as the warmth of the early afternoon washed over them. Her cheerfulness was infectious, and soon he felt a smile tug at his own lips as the sun beat down upon them.

"I hope you don't mind if we take my vehicle to the crime scene," she said happily, as the two of them made their way to the parking lot where a group of Hummers stood waiting. "I decided to wait for you, and have my kit inside the vehicle already."

She caught sight of Horatio's look and quickly held up her keys. "It's locked inside the vehicle and well hidden from view."

Horatio nodded in response. His Hummer had been brought to the shop for some much needed repairs, and while he did have a replacement vehicle, he preferred to have his own to drive. Calleigh led him to the second to last Hummer and unlocked the doors with the press of a button, she got into the vehicle and moved a large grey box from the seat before he even had a chance to open the door. The moment that he jumped into his seat and shut the door, Calleigh already had put the key into the ignition and had begun to pull out of the parking lot.

* * *

><p>It took them far longer to reach Coconut Grove than usual due to traffic at a construction site. Even with Calleigh's lights and siren on, it took them eighteen minutes to get out and take a back route to the wealthy neighbourhood. By the time that they had arrived to the crime scene, Calleigh's cheerful mood had deteriorated and had been replaced by an unnatural irritability. Horatio wasn't the only one to feel its affects. By the time that Eric and Ryan caught sight of them and had arrived at the driver's side door, both had quieted down and were looking wary.<p>

Horatio opened the door and gladly hopped out, pausing long enough to grab his kit before he gently closed the door. Calleigh followed his example, and by the time that he was on the driver's side of the vehicle, she had closed the door and was peering up at the house that was surrounded by crime scene tape, police officers and three people in black suits.

"This is an affluent neighbourhood," Calleigh said, her eyes moved from the house in front of her to the others that surrounded it. "Do we know if anybody in the immediate area seen or heard anything?"

"I have my guys checking that out." Frank had approached them out of nowhere. Horatio was surprised to see that the detective looked rather flustered, a scowl appeared on his face as he looked over at the house, then back at the CSIs before him. "Horatio, the FBI arrived a few minutes before you showed up. The agent in charge is on the doorstep- calls herself Natalie Greenfield."

Horatio noticed Eric and Ryan share a dark significant look before they looked over to where Frank had pointed them. Calleigh didn't appear to care, though her mouth had tightened and her eyes hardened as she shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun and glanced over the hood of the Hummer in the direction of the house.

He inclined his head to show Frank that he had heard him, before he placed his hands on his hips. He wasn't impressed that the FBI had showed up so early in the investigation, but at the same time he found that he was curious enough to question why they showed up before they knew that this was indeed a missing child case. It was unnatural to say the least, but he chose not to make any comments on it at the moment.

"Do you know what we've got?" He asked instead.

Frank took a moment to compose himself before he took out a small notebook from a suit pocket, opened it to a page and looked back up. "According to Mister Paul Jorgenson, his wife Marissa and their two year old daughter Valerie have vanished. He had decided to stop by the house when he couldn't reach his wife and made the discoveries that not only were they gone, but there was a great deal of blood. At ten past eleven he left his place of work to make the thirty minute drive back home, and at twelve fifteen called the police."

Horatio frowned as he listened to what Frank had to say, but as the burly detective continued on, the frown deepened. "Frank, that doesn't make any sense. If this man left work at eleven ten, that leaves a wide window of time before he called in to the police."

"That's not all that doesn't make sense." Frank put away his notebook and crossed his arms. He gave Horatio an intent look before he stepped towards him. Eric and Ryan moved in closer towards Calleigh so that they could hear what Tripp had to say. "I don't know, Horatio. The way this man tells his story makes me stand on edge. There is something about it that doesn't ring true to me, and I don't think that the FBI believes him either. As a matter of fact, the Feds just being here makes me suspicious that there is something more to this story."

Horatio was just about to respond but before he could say anything, a loud shout from the property that had become a crime scene grabbed his attention. The owner of the voice was a tall brunette with an FBI bullet proof vest pulled over her dark t-shirt; she was marching across the lawn towards them.

"We've waited for you to get here," she snarled before she even reached the sidewalk. "You should be inside that house searching for evidence instead of standing outside chatting like you're at a café in Paris."

Eric opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it when Horatio glanced at him warningly. Special Agent Natalie Greenfield was not a woman to be trifled with, and though he found her to be professional in her career as an FBI agent, he didn't find her pushy and sometimes arrogant behaviour at all appealing to work with.

Nonetheless, Horatio politely inclined his head towards her as she stepped down onto the road and stopped in front of the Hummer. "It's nice to see you again, Agent Greenfield."

She ignored his attempt of exchanging pleasantries and instead focused on the members of his team. She first turned her attention to Calleigh who was trying her best to keep herself from showing any emotion. "I should expect that you should be able to find a weapon in that house. It has been proven that despite the fact that murderers that try to destroy evidence by washing things are unable to get rid of all the blood, after all."

Calleigh nodded stiffly and moved towards the house, her face was unreadable. Horatio put a hand on her arm to stop her. He gazed calmly at the FBI agent in front of him, though there was a hint of coolness in the look that he gave to her. He frowned at her before releasing Calleigh's arm.

"Correct me if I am mistaken, Agent Greenfield, but I believe that when it comes to my team, that I am the one who gives the orders."

"Of course you are," Greenfield responded without missing a beat. "It's just I want this over with today, _Lieutenant _Caine."

Horatio's eyebrows rose at the emphasis on the word 'lieutenant', but chose to ignore it as he turned to Eric and Ryan. Both had been gazing at the FBI agent in a state of contemptuous disbelief, and had been muttering amongst themselves the entire time. They quieted at once when they realised that Horatio had turned to them. Ryan fidgeted slightly, looking uncomfortable in his brand new dark suit; his eyes were downcast as they studied his black shoes. Eric stood with his arms crossed over his chest; his face was impassive as he regarded the FBI agent who still stood in front of the vehicle.

"Eric, I want you to have a look around the outside of the house and property. Look for any evidence of a break in and collect anything that catches your attention or appears off to you." Horatio turned to Ryan. "Mister Wolfe, I want you to be in the house documenting bloodstains and taking samples. Unfortunately we are short staffed today and are unable to have a DNA analyst with us on the scene. Remember gentlemen; take as many pictures as you can of the scene. I don't want our case to be thrown out in a court of law due to lack of sufficient evidence in way of photographs." Horatio didn't add anything else to what he said, but everybody heard the unspoken words of _'if it comes to that' _as clearly as if he had actually said them.

Eric and Ryan nodded to him jerkily before they both headed off to do their jobs. Eric paused long enough to pat Horatio on the back and to say a belated hello before he walked past Natalie Greenfield in an unusually stiff fashion. For a moment Horatio watched the two CSIs as they spoke in hushed voices across the lawn before they promptly separated. By the time that he spoke again, Ryan had disappeared through the front door, and Eric had decided to begin his investigation at the front of the house.

He caught sight of the federal agent's face before he had opened his mouth to speak to Calleigh. It was a mixed look of general aloofness and superiority, with a touch of contempt. Horatio ignored her and focused his attention instead on the petite blonde in front of him.

"Calleigh, I want you to go in the house and see if you can find a weapon that may have been used. According to reports, there's a lot of blood in there."

Calleigh nodded her head and offered him a small smile before she turned and slowly made her way to the house. When she had stepped onto the doorstep of the house, Horatio saw her hesitate as she looked around before she too vanished from sight.

There was an awkward silence as Horatio and Frank Tripp stared at each other. However the silence was quickly broken by Natalie Greenfield who had finally walked out from the front of the Hummer to stand beside the homicide detective. There was a moment when Frank had opened his mouth to say something but had quickly shut it when he found that the federal agent was still there.

"Thank you for not asking too many questions, detective."

"Pleasures mine," Frank answered stiffly. "Listen Horatio, I've got to get back to doing door-to-door canvassing. A neighbourhood such as this, there's bound to be somebody out there that knows something about this family."

Horatio didn't miss the way that Frank's voice had grown sombre as he said the last part of his sentence. It was strange that the detective seemed to think that the husband had something to do with the disappearances of his wife and daughter so early in the investigation, but didn't say one word to him about it. He just nodded as Tripp turned away from them and walked away down the street.

Natalie Greenfield watched him silently for a few moments before turning back to Horatio. "He seems professional enough not to make rash decisions before the evidence supports his theory."

Horatio nodded his head absently as he began to go towards the crime scene. Much to his annoyance, Natalie hurried after him.

"Speaking of acting without evidence," Horatio said as he stepped up on the sidewalk. "Why is it that the FBI decided to get involved before local law enforcement had sufficient evidence that a child is truly involved in this case?"

For a moment Natalie was silent as she contemplated how to answer his question. Horatio could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she considered how much information he was entitled to know.

"Paul Jorgenson has been on our radar for quite some time," she finally answered as they walked towards the house together. "The FBI office in Washington notified us that a potential threat was moving to Florida. We've had the house watched for quite some time."

Horatio looked at her in surprise. "What do you mean by 'potential threat'?"

"Let's just say that he makes the Marquis de Sade look tame." Natalie's mouth was drawn in a grim line as she looked towards a squad car that had the outline of a man sitting within its back seat. "Five young women went missing after they responded to job ads that Jorgenson had put in the newspaper. All except for one have been found discarded like trash in ditches. I think that you can draw your own conclusions based on the information that I have just told you."

For a few minutes Horatio remained silent as he digested the news that had just been provided to him. Despite the fact that there was now an answer to his question out in the open, he found himself still baffled by yet even more questions.

"How come the local police department doesn't..."

"They know, Lieutenant. They just prefer to have it hidden until there is more proof that Jorgenson actually committed a crime."

"They need more proof? What about the bodies?" Horatio was suddenly outraged. "How much proof do they need before they make this public?"

They stopped before they reached the front stoop of the house. Natalie looked suddenly anxious. Horatio felt uneasy as the agent looked about her.

"Look Horatio," she said her voice so low that Horatio had to incline his head to hear what she had to say. "The Washington office doesn't have enough evidence to make charges stick. Yes, the bodies of these young women were found, but other than that, they've got nothing. It isn't exactly a federal offence to pick up your family and move States. Especially if there is no evidence that you did anything wrong."

He puffed out air in frustration. Natalie was regaining back her usual brisk and snappish manner, though she still looked apprehensive. The time to get answers to his questions was rapidly nearing its end.

"Please tell me that through all those hours of surveillance that you've got something more to pin on this man," Horatio said grimly. "You know that we can't legally hold him until we've got evidence that he was directly responsible for the disappearance of his family."

Natalie cocked an eyebrow, a strange expression upon her face. She regarded Horatio with her dark brown eyes before she sighed and began to pull away from him. "This man is as slippery as a fish, Lieutenant Caine. Please make sure that you don't mess things up for our investigation. One slip up from your lab and our case against this man will be thrown out right in front of us."

For a few seconds, Natalie glared at him before she turned and disappeared into the house. Horatio was left with far more questions than answers, and the feeling that there was something more to the case than what the FBI agent had told him. He shook his head as he gazed back at the squad car that contained the man that the FBI suspected to be a serial killer, before he collected himself and finally walked into the crime scene.

* * *

><p>The amount of blood throughout the house was alarming. The moment that Horatio walked inside he had nearly stepped on the wide trail of red that led into the garage. He shook himself before he decided to step over the blood trail and follow it to its source.<p>

As Horatio carefully wound his way through the crime scene, he was struck by just how much wealth the Jorgensons had before the call came in to police that afternoon. The mansion was smaller than its neighbours, but that didn't make it any less grandiose and majestic. Before he touched anything, he put on a pair of gloves as he followed the bright red tracks that led up a sweeping staircase to the top floor.

His shoes squeaked on the shiny hardwood, making him jump. From the looks of the dramatic whorls and streaks of the wood, Horatio guessed that the floor was once a beech tree. Before he went up the stairs, he looked around at the room he was in with the same intent look that he gave when he studied a suspect.

_A house can say a lot about the people that live in it, _Horatio thought to himself as he gazed about him. _It helps to understand individuals far better than talking to them will. _

The spacious room that he was in now appeared to function as both an entrance and a sitting room, with six doors that all led into what Horatio assumed were large and well furnished rooms. The walls around him were devoid of any pictures and paintings, though the room contained a wide variety of potted plants that seemed to compensate the emptiness of the room. Near the staircase was an expensive looking furniture set that immediately reminded him of the style that was favoured by French monarch Louis XV. Two high-backed chairs with matching designs of what appeared to be leaves from a fern like tree sat opposite each other across a soft black rug. They had small arm holders with curved legs and a rectangular look to them. In between the two chairs sat a coffee table that had an ornate tea set sitting upon it, and a magazine that appeared as though it were about horses. There were two matching rococo sofas that stood on opposite sides of the table, they were both a soft pastel pink colour and appeared as though they were brand new.

Horatio tore his gaze away from the furniture and instead looked around the rest of the room. It contained an assortment of tables that were pressed against the walls. A mantel clock sat ticking away the minutes upon an oak table near the far wall. With the exception of a rather large bouquet of orange roses that sat upon the floor, nothing was out of place.

The fact that there weren't any children's toys present in this room began to bother him. As a matter of fact the absence of any evidence that a child even lived here left Horatio slightly disconcerted. The place seemed too clean despite the blood trail that headed up the stairs.

With one last look around the room, Horatio took a deep shuddering breath and began to climb the winding staircase. He took great care to step away from the trail of blood, and stayed clear of the banister in case it hadn't been examined yet. The moment when he had reached the top landing, he hesitated, his eyes glued to the floor. The blood trail veered off into the nearest room, and Horatio could see the flash of white light made from a camera emitting inside.

He took a moment to collect himself, taking deep breaths to calm down. However when he looked up again, he felt his heart nearly sink into the pit of his stomach. The room that was furthest from the staircase and whose walls were a light yellow was obviously the child's room. A large stuffed giraffe that would have towered over the two year old was against the furthest wall along with its companions, a grey elephant and a lion that had a thick tawny coloured mane.

For the first time since he had arrived at the scene, Horatio felt bile rise in his throat. He felt suddenly sick as the thought of the blood trail throughout the house came to his mind. No matter how he tried to remain objective in investigations like this, he couldn't help but feel heartsick for the loss of a child.


End file.
